Hurricane Nicole in Tampa Bay: Um, get out!

Well, look at the time!

This has been an, uh, interesting party. Longer than expected. Boy, am I tired. Remind me, Hurricane Season, when did you first get here? June 1, right, right. You were so quiet there at the beginning, I almost forgot you were in the room. You were just lurking behind the bookcase nursing a low pressure system and kind of weirding everyone out, to be honest. Wild how you started to get so belligerent here at the end, spitting out a very rare November storm.

Um. Did you try the spinach artichoke dip?

Did, uh, Nancy already head out? She’s usually the last one to leave! One time, she stayed up on my couch watching “Ink Master” until 2:30 a.m., and she didn’t even help pick up Solo cups. Like, social cues, look into them, Nance! You’re really going for Nancy’s record, here, aren’t you, Hurricane Season?

No, I’m not implying anything. I know you could technically stick around until the end of the month. It’s just that your friends Wind and Temperature and Moisture usually show up from August to October, so I guess I just didn’t expect you to still be here.

But, look at you.

The funny thing is, I don’t really remember sending you an invitation. Did you get an email? It would have been from me, Florida. Florida@overit.com. A Paperless Post, with a graphic of little birdies gathered around tea cups in a sunbeam. I picked that design because the vibe was supposed to be laid back and cute, not... well, you know. Blah! Whatever this is! Yeah, I guess I did say that people could bring a plus-one. Who invited you to, uh… oh, Nancy. Mmhm.

And now it is… wow, already more than a week into November. And you’re still spitting out red cyclone icons onto maps of the Atlantic like they’re chewed-up Dentyne, aren’t you? That is really...

Welp. If you don’t mind, I’m going to do a few dishes and clean a smidge. Want to get ahead of this mess in the morning. Oh, no, please don’t feel like you have to leave. I mean, yeah, everyone else did leave multiple months ago so if you want to leave, that would be fine. But, you know me! I’m Florida! I never kick anyone out!

Are you good? Do you need anything? Bathroom? Coffee? Vertical wind shear and cold ocean water to cut off your energy source? Canned tuna? Policy reforms to more effectively slow climate change? No, we are all out of wine. We’ve been out of wine for weeks.

Boy, I’m going to be sleepy taking the kids to school in the morning. What’s that? Oh, they don’t have school because… because of you, right. You know, they’re going to run out of make-up days. They’re going to have to start the school year earlier if you keep this up. Maybe even June 1. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Haha!

Would it be weird if I got into my pajamas? I’ve been in these clothes for six months now and the tension and anxiety is almost debilitating, radiating up into my neck and down the inside of my leg. I think it’s these high-waisted jeans, or the near-constant threat of disaster.

OK, I’m just going to hit the lights, Hurricane Season. There are towels in the bathroom unless you just want to show yourself out. That would be fine. If you just want to leave. Really. No one would mind.